


distraction

by chaetrbl



Category: K-pop, Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Angst and Fluff and Smut, CEO, F/F, Sexual Tension, Strap-Ons, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:08:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27664493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaetrbl/pseuds/chaetrbl
Summary: Working for Irene is a dream turned dangerous when you can't contain your feelings for her.
Relationships: Bae Joohyun | Irene/Reader
Comments: 15
Kudos: 75





	1. before

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written late 2018. 
> 
> This was written in two parts, then I re-posted it once as one, but I think I wanna keep the halves separate this time. Enjoy.

“So can you tell me a little bit about yourself, Ms. L/N?”

The raven-haired beauty had flipped through your resume briefly before setting it atop her crossed legs, much to your dismay. As if being interviewed by _the_ CEO of the damn company wasn’t enough to squash your confidence.

You clear your throat, hyper-aware of your fingers fidgeting with the end of your blouse in your lap. Such a simple question, one you even rehearsed last night in anticipation that it’d be asked. This should’ve been a piece of cake, but her appearance is nothing you were prepared for.

_“Ms. Y/N L/N?"_

_The receptionist called over her desk to the waiting room where you sat. She flashed you a quick smile as she caught your eye, pointing to glass doors down the hall._

_“Mark is ready for you through those doors.”_

_“Thank you.”_

_You grabbed your bag, starting in the direction needed when a soft voice near the desk stopped you, followed by gasps and chairs pushed against the floor._

_“Excuse me, Ms. L/N? Mind if I handled your interview instead?”_

_You turned to find the receptionist handing her your resume, sharp brown eyes meeting yours. The same ones on last month’s cover of Cosmopolitan._

_“Tell Mr. Tuan I have his 10:30 appointment covered, won’t you, Joy?”_

Multi-millionaire model, philanthropist, and CEO of Automatic Industries Bae Joohyun sat comfortably across from you in her thirtieth-floor office, patiently waiting for her answer. Being this close, you come to the conclusion that any photo of her doesn’t compare, which makes it quite difficult to maintain eye contact. She was wearing a black blazer and loose pants with - red bottoms? Her hair was tied up, a few dark strands contrasting against her light temples. Not as shocking as her being your interviewer. It was an elegant room, with a clear view of the other skyscrapers in the city behind her chair; fitting, for lack of a better word.

As shocking as the predicament is, you came here on a mission, fueled with the burning desire to leave your current job. You admired her company's goals and the work she’s done and currently does with revolutionary medical technology, and Fortune 100 rates it in the top five best companies to work at. With a stab in the dark, you applied for an open position underneath the chief finance officer, who should be the one meeting you instead. What incredible timing you have, to be called next when the CEO walks in, and then for her to _ask_ if she could interview you. Really? Could you have said no? It was like a bad dream, and no matter how many times you’ve pinched your thigh since sitting down, you’re not waking up in bed, relieved.

Or, perhaps it was fate. Now or never, you tell yourself.

“Well, Ms. Bae, right now I’m a financial manager at-”

You hold your breath as she holds a hand up.

“You’re hired, Ms. L/N.”

She gives you a small smile.

Silence, not out of choice, but frozen in pure shock.

Finally, you tilt your head in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“I said you’re hired. Welcome to Automatic Industries.”

She offers a hand, which you shake cautiously after hesitation. “Not that I’m… turning down this opportunity, Ms. Bae, but I didn’t do anything worth hiring me.”

The CEO moves the paper onto her desk before folding her hands in her lap. 

“The fact of the matter is I’ve already seen your resume back when you first applied weeks ago, actually, and I’ve personally called all the references you listed. I’m more than confident in your qualifications in our finance department here at headquarters, but I wanted to meet you myself because, with your skills and experience, I believe you’d succeed in a particular position I’m looking to fill. If you refuse, I can send you back downstairs to Mr. Tuan, no problem.”

You blink slowly, feeling many different things at once, but curiosity rises to the surface first.

“Ms. Bae, what position do you believe I’m suited for?”

The woman leans forward.

“Call me Irene from now on. And what do you say to hanging out up here with the big kids as my new secretary instead?”

//

Working for Irene seemed too daunting at first, but since you don’t know how often a person of her stature directly asks another if they’d want to be their secretary, and still riding the high of passing such an odd interview, you accepted her offer. It’s been your best decision, easily.

As expected, the work was challenging, seeing that Irene is a busy woman, but she was patient while she explained how she liked things done. Once you learned the ropes, being secretary to a rich and famous businesswoman was fun, and she paid handsomely. There was nothing you weren’t directly involved with; from meeting with interested designers who want to dress her for an upcoming gala, to setting up itineraries for overseas business trips. She developed trust in you and your abilities, insisting you accompany her on these trips often and introducing you to countless celebrities. Your opinion became something she held highly, considering your resume, and sought you out for advice, especially regarding financial matters.

That’s not to say that she isn’t canny on her own when closing deals with other companies’ CEOs, you know her cold appearance and reputation precede her.

Your favorite part of the job, though, is getting to know Irene past the news articles on the internet that think they do. For someone in the extremely demanding position she holds, she’s kind-hearted, far beyond the money she donates. Everyone employed at Automatic Industries’ headquarters building genuinely likes coming into work, which is a true testament to her character and values. She always puts the people first: pushing through for higher wages, paid leave, frequent promotion opportunities. You’ve gone with her on tours of her warehouses scattered across the country and witnessed the results firsthand in the atmosphere she creates amongst her employees.

In addition to her selflessness, she’s clever, with a dry sense of humor that goes over most people’s heads, but most of all her aura was infectious. And you can’t help the butterflies that slowly accumulate in your stomach every day you show up for work.

It’s subtle in the beginning, maybe acting a little more nervous around her or staring a second too long during the meetings she insists you sit in on. But it gets worse, especially when Irene becomes more comfortable; laying her head on your shoulder during flights back home, taking you out to dinner when work runs late. It isn’t until last week, nearly a year after accepting the role that you admit to yourself that you’ve developed inappropriate feelings for the person who’s supposed to be your superior. And as selfish as it is for you to crave more when you’re already as involved in her life, you can’t help it. This is why you’re a half-hour late this morning, carrying two paper cups from the coffeehouse down the street, one of which is Irene’s favorite green tea blend.

Glancing at your watch, you pick up the pace to the large building, pushing the massive revolving doors with your shoulder. You move the cups away from your torso to expose the badge that hung around your neck to security before just barely making it into a closing elevator.

When the doors open to the thirtieth floor, you make a beeline for your desk, dropping the cups down before hanging your jacket on the back of your chair. You grab Irene’s before making your way down the long corridor to her office.

“It’s not like you to be late.”

Your boss is adding something to a list on the whiteboard hanging on the wall before she sits down at her desk, which is a mess. 

You softly knock on the propped open doorway anyway, for permission to enter.

“I brought your favorite.”

She glances up from the stack of charts on her desk, bags visible under her eyes; she looks like she hasn’t slept. It’s not the first time you’ve seen her like this but the sight still tugs at your heartstrings. She runs a hand through her long hair before giving you a weak smile.

“This is why? You can just leave it here, Ms. L/N.”

You walk over to her desk, lifting a folder to make space in the corner for the steaming paper cup. Her usually pressed button-up shirt is covered with wrinkles.

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Y/N? You make me address you informally, and you’re my boss.”

Irene lifts the cup to her lips, eyebrow quirking. “A million.” 

You shake your head with a smile as you walk back.

“I’m sure I reached that number already. Is there anything else you need me to do?”

Irene hums before taking a long gulp of the tea, picking up one of the papers.

“I have nothing right now.”

You lean against the doorway and cross your arms.

“Do you want me to order a pizza for lunch? You look stressed.”

Your boss looks back up at you with softer eyes and a more genuine smile.

“No thank you for the pizza, but I am stressed. Obviously.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Irene takes a deep breath. “Close the door.”

You straighten up and oblige, pulling the empty chair in front of her closer to the desk. You scan through the sprawled documents, immediately recognizing what she’s doing. Irene draws out a loose-leaf packet with more scribbles than blank space from the pile and hands it to you.

“I’m not satisfied with my new market plan no matter how many times I edit it, and we’re nearing the end of this fiscal year. What can we do?”

You look it over a few times, aware of Irene’s intense gaze on you, before speaking up.

“I think it’s good, honest. I would email it to Wendy though and see if she can add anything that’s missing,” You pause to see Irene watching you intently.

“It’s good, Irene. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Irene sighs.

“Would you be able to do that later today? Type out a new one as well, I don’t want to send Ms. Son a marked up paper like that.”

You set it back down. “Not a problem. Anything else?”

There’s a long pause, but the silence doesn’t make either one of you uncomfortable.

“Make all the stress go away.”

You shoot her a look of sympathy before standing up, picking a handful of crumpled paper balls off her desk before tossing them into the trash. Irene stands up as well.

“How do you suppose I do that?”

“Maybe like this.”

You noticed she had moved closer, but you were not expecting the hug Irene pulls you into. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around her as she buries her face into your chest. Her shoulders relax in your hold, giving a muffled thank you. The world-renowned ice princess must be extremely burnt out if she’s here initiating physical contact. You smile as you gently rub her back, floral perfume invading the air. If anything, you’re very glad to be the one able to do this for her.

“Of course, anything for you.”

Irene silently pulls away but keeps her arms locked around your waist, and you catch her glance at your lips before meeting your eyes. Irene’s voice is a harsh whisper, a tone you’ve never quite heard from her.

“Anything, Y/N?”

She does it again, closing her eyes while leaning towards your lips, and you can’t help yourself when all the signs are there. You part your own in anticipation.

“Finally on first name basis now, Ms. Bae?”

Irene smiles before placing her lips on yours ever so softly, and you can feel the butterflies bursting free from your stomach. You move one hand to hold her cheek, caressing it with your thumb as Irene opens the kiss and her tongue finds yours. Her hands slide from your hips to squeeze your ass, keeping you on her as her kisses become needier, teeth tugging your bottom lip. You sigh and reciprocate the intensity, the sounds of sloppy kissing, and forceful breaths filling the room. Irene’s tongue explores every inch of your mouth before moving to your neck, her saliva coated lips pressing into your skin. You crane your neck to allow her better access, squeezing your thighs together in a feeble attempt to suppress your pulsing sex.

“ _Irene_ ,” your shaky moan elicits one right back from her, pausing to guide you back to behind her desk. She shoves some papers to the floor and hops up on the now bare spot, spreading her legs and pulling you in from your shirt. You reattach your lips to her jawline and take advantage of the new position, undoing just enough buttons on her shirt to slip your hand inside, squeezing her breast.

Irene's head falls slack with a groan while gripping your ass again, strands of hair starting to stick across her forehead and you can feel the juice starting to leak from your aching pussy.

“Please don’t stop any of this.”

Irene’s orders you to do things constantly, but has never once begged, and you’re grateful because if she had, you would have passed out. The lust that oozed from her voice only made your head spin. A husky breath escapes you against her creamy skin as you cup her breast inside her bra.

“I don’t plan to.”

You kiss up her jawline to her earlobe, nibbling on it before pushing your tongue into her ear. The sensation causes Irene to gasp and drag her nails up your back. You rub her hard nipple between your thumb and index finger, moving back down the kiss her collarbone.

Irene’s hands glide back down your body, halting at the hem of your slacks before unzipping them. Her fingers graze your swollen clit over the fabric of your underwear, the now sensitive nerves causing you to jerk up. “Oh _my_ ,” Irene caresses your slit over the soaked fabric, and you sink your teeth into her shoulder to suppress your whimpering. She hums in delight as she moves the fabric over, pushing her finger between your slick folds.

“Ahh, Irene,” you took your hand out of her shirt, supporting yourself with your hands propped on either side of her on the desk while she slipped another finger in, pumping slowly. You rocked your hips against them, groaning the deeper they go.

Irene keeps this up until your eyes roll back into your skull and then… stops. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to keep the friction going. 

“Don’t get too excited, because I’m not done with you,”

Irene removes her hands from you, sucking her fingers off before she slides off the desk, turning to lean over it. She arches her back and waves her perfect ass in front of you. “I want it like this.”

There is no moment of hesitation from when the last word leaves her mouth to when you’re zipping her skirt down, letting it fall to her feet. You grab her bare ass and pull down the flimsy thong from between to the pile before getting on your knees.

“Open those gorgeous legs for me.”

Irene obeys, and you watch as you push your fingers into her dripping pussy, causing Irene to move forward slightly with a loud gasp. Her juices immediately coat them when you pump your hand out, and the thought of tasting it is too good to ignore. You quickly slip your fingers out and instead spread her ass before leaning forward, pushing your tongue in between her hot folds. The moans that follow are heavenly, almost as good as how sweet she tastes. You flick your tongue on her clit before pushing it deeper, Irene’s knees buckling.

“In… In my bottom drawer, Y/N,” You guess what she’s hinting at, but still not too entirely sure, you pull open the only drawer she could be talking about. 

“You’re quite kinky, aren’t you?”

Irene giggles in front of you as you pull out a dildo from the drawer. Or what you thought was a dildo. Getting to see it in the light, it was double-ended, with one length a lot shorter than the other, and rounder. You stand up, shimmying out of your slacks.

“Can I ask why you have a strapless strap on in your office drawer?”

“Not until after you fuck me with it.” Fair enough.

You guided the smaller end into yourself, exhaling until you position it comfortably. The toy rubbed against your walls with any subtle movement. You licked your lips as you moved back behind Irene, slowly pushing the toy into her. Irene lets out something that could be taken as a scream for anyone outside of her office. Grabbing her hips, you begin slowly thrusting, the toy rubbing harder inside of you. This isn’t something you’ve ever done, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it.

“Oh, my, Y/N,”

You and Irene both gasp with every stroke, the sounds of her wetness music to your ears. You watch as Irene’s swollen lips expand for the toy, pushing until your hips are flush with hers, burying it inside. Her body sinks forward with a groan so you reach over and pull her hair to keep her arched. Irene takes this opportunity to bring a hand to her clit, using her fingers to rub it in circles while you pump into her, the toy pushing deeper inside you as well. Gradually, she builds up speed over her clit and you follow, pounding her ass.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, _fuck_.”

Irene is moaning your name and obscenities you’ve never heard from her pretty mouth as you slam into her. A few more thrusts and Irene goes rigid, letting out another high pitched scream. You use your other hand to cover her mouth.

“Like that, _baby_.”

Once Irene comes down from her climax, you release her gently before pulling the toy out of her, then yourself. Irene quickly brings her skirt back up, zipping it before she turns to an awkward you holding her slick strap on half-naked.

“Just- hand it here.”

You comply, picking up your own and quickly fixing yourself. You weren’t sure what to say, but you also didn’t want any weird tension filling the room. “So, lunch is still up in-”

Irene cuts you off coldly.

“Thank you for the distraction,"

She runs her hand through her sweaty hair with a sigh, pressing her lips together.

“I’ll clean this up but you should, um… get back to work now, Ms. L/N.”

She doesn’t even meet your eyes, instead focused on the carpeting.

“Yeah, sorry.”

Your gut churns, and you move to grab Irene’s draft plan. You try to speak, to let her know you’ll take care of the email but your throat’s gone dry. Before embarrassing yourself any more, you turn and walk out of her office, not stopping until you’re sitting in front of the computer at your own desk, slumped forward.

What were you thinking? Crushing on your boss? Stupid. To think that she would magically want to take things further just because you fucked? Even more stupid, and self-centered.

Irene is your boss, and you are just her distraction.

Feeling numb, you move the mouse for the screen to illuminate, quickly opening a new document in Word just like she had asked. You begin typing.

_Dear Irene,_

_Please accept this letter as notice of my resignation as Secretary to the CEO. My last day in the office will be_


	2. after

You woke first, from the looks of it. Irene lay inches from you on her back, body rising and falling with every breath, messy hair splayed over her face. Her arm was stretched out across the pillows, probably in a half-assed attempt to reach for you throughout the night. The sunlight that peeked in from her penthouse windows made her look like a goddess, almost too bright to look at. Well, she _always_ looks like a goddess, but in small mundane moments like this, it’s almost unfair.

A million and one ways are running through your mind on how to wake her on this lovely Saturday morning, but one in particular overrules.

Carefully, you pull back the covers you two shared before crawling in front of her legs and spreading them slightly. You pinch the band of her panties at her hips and pull them down to her ankles. Thank the heavens that Irene is a heavy sleeper and you could attempt this to begin with. You drop your head to attach your mouth to her exposed sex, tongue slowly tracing her folds.

Irene stirs above you with a small moan, attempting to turn on her side. You hold her thighs down while you flick your tongue before sliding it inside. Irene jolts fully awake, propping her body up on her forearms.

“Oh, _oh_ , Y/N,” She grins down at you before closing her eyes.

“Well, good _morning_.” 

“Mmmmhmmm.”

Irene giggles from the vibration you caused against her before dropping back down on her bed, spreading her legs wider for you as you continue to lick her pussy, getting wetter by the second. You sucked on her folds before tracing up to her swelling clit, gently swirling your tongue. Irene whines above you, arching her back off the bed.

“Y/N, _please_.”

You release your mouth from her and circle your fingers over her bud, smirking when she arches again.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m going to make you come for me.”

Irene’s mouth drops, squirming from your touch with louder whines. You dip your head back down, moaning into her when you taste her wetness. You flick your tongue against her clit, enjoying the way she writhed out of control. Her knuckles were white from gripping the sheets beneath her.

Her whines echo in the large bedroom.

“ _Y/N,_ oh my-"

You move to lift her slightly, licking the juices that dripped down her ass before circling your tongue around it. Irene lets out a deep moan which only hastens the massive pool soaking in your underwear. Your core ached as you continued to suck on her.

“Yes yes yes, oh baby, I’m close.”

Irene quickly lifts her shirt over her head, exposing her breasts to squeeze them, the sight burning your insides. You can’t help the moan it produces, dropping a hand past your underwear to rub your slick mound. 

The woman drops her head back, grazing her bottom lip between her teeth to suppress her whines. Your force your tongue deeper, licking at the same pace your hand was working underneath you, her juices coating your lips. Irene’s moans become more frequent as you feel your orgasm building fast. _Just a little more_. Irene is practically screaming above you, thrashing as she reaches hers first. You shut your eyes, lapping at her flowing wetness as your climax is so close.

“Y/N, Y/N!”

You open your eyes again, panting hard. The ceiling fan spun lazily above you as your phone went off on your nightstand. Ignoring the wetness between your thighs, you quickly turn over; no one else’s on the mattress but you. Your room, your apartment. Breathing in, you swing your feet off the bed to swipe your alarm away before getting up to cleanse yourself of the sinful dream and check back into reality.

//

You sigh, clicking the pen in your hand. It must’ve echoed through the room louder than expected because she stops her rehearsed proposal to glare at you before pointing back to the projected slide on the board. You quickly avert your eyes from hers, focusing instead on the back of the prospective investor’s head as her voice filters out.

It’s been a week since you sent your resignation letter, and it’s been a week since you’ve officially heard anything from your boss about it. She treated you the same way she did when you first started the job after the eventful morning in her office, reluctant to dip back into the comfortable waters you once both swam in. Anything that needed to be said between the two of you took no more than five minutes now, and everything else was sent via email. You still accompanied her everywhere, seeing as that’s what’s required of you, but it was emotionally taxing. Sitting next to someone daily who made your heart race and your stomach turn at the same time drove you insane. You didn’t _want_ to leave her, but waking up with dread instead of the usual butterflies doesn’t make it easy. It was obvious a second attempt at a strictly business relationship would fall apart.

You confronted Irene before the meeting you found yourself sitting in, asking if she’s acknowledged the letter, at the very least.

“Yes, I know.” Everything about her was cold; voice, stare, body language. You bit your lip trying to contain the frustration it caused.

“Do you have anything you might want to talk to me about in regards to that?”

“No, but if I do I’ll be sure to email it, Ms. L/N. Are you ready for the investor?”

And so you sat, half-listening to the proposal you’ve already heard multiple times, perking up when the gentleman had a question or needed a refill on his coffee. You were watching the pen spin in your hands when you saw him rise from the chair, giving Irene a firm handshake before she showed him out. Irene came back into the meeting room, slamming the door behind her before slamming the table, startling you.

“What was _that_?!”

You stand up to go turn off the laptop at the other end before looking at her. You’ve never heard Irene yell, and you weren’t prepared on how to go about this.

“What was what?”

Irene crosses her arms, scoffing.

“I know you’re leaving, Y/N, but you could’ve _pretended_ to be interested,” She sighs and runs both hands through her loose hair. “I just barely got him!”

Trying to ignore her, you collect all the loose papers filled with company data sprawled across the surface and stack them neatly. She doesn’t let up, stepping closer.

“Do you even care, Y/N? I let you sit in on these meetings because I _trust_ you! You have all this experience and knowledge and yet you sat distracted! During a meeting with an investor who was deciding whether to fund us, of all times, Y/N?!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, blood rushing to your head.

“I wasn’t the one he was paying attention to! I’m sure he couldn’t give two fucks about the person who was pouring his coffee. It’s not my company!”

Irene’s tense features soften and she steps back.

“Not your company?”

Your heart sinks at the sight of Irene withdrawing from you, but it’s hard to keep your anger in check when she’s pressed all your buttons.

“In the end, all of the responsibility is on you! I’m not the one who came up with the plan, and I wasn’t the one presenting it. Do I look like the CEO of Automatic Industries to you, Ms. Bae?!”

Your boss looks down silently for a second or so before looking back up at you, eyes red and filled with tears.

“No, but you still look like you work for her. Start acting like it.”

Irene grabs her folder off the table and storms out of the meeting room, slamming the door so hard the second time around that everyone else working on her floor stopped to look from their desks. You sigh and grab the stack of papers before heading back to your desk in silence.

The rest of the day was quiet, unsurprisingly, and went by in a blur, just like every other day since the encounter you shared. Just before you started to collect your belongings to go home, an email popped into your inbox.

_Ms. L/N,_

_Foremost, I would like to apologize for the unprofessional display in the meeting room. I let frustration run over me. It’s not the last impression I’d like to leave you with._

_I’m painfully aware you made your last day this Wednesday, but I still have out of office meetings and dinners through the end of the week. Would you be able to take over for me until then? Upon my arrival back to the office Monday, you will no longer be employed at Automatic Industries, per your wishes. I’ve attached a recommendation letter for future prospective employers._

_I wish you nothing but the best._

It was entirely your decision to want to quit, to get as far away from Irene as you possibly could, and yet with this one email she reels you back in to doubt yourself. It never felt real until now, seeing the typed words on the screen from your boss herself. The words felt like a punch to the stomach, wringing your insides. You were conflicted between wanting to attempt to work through the undefined tension between you two and never wanting to interact with her ever again.

You hated how witty she is. How charming, selfless, funny, and gorgeous she is, and that’s just scratching the surface. You also hated how easy it was for you to give in to your fixation on her.

There was no need for Irene to ask when you didn’t have a choice to begin with. You quickly sent an email back before shutting off the computer, yanking your jacket off the back of your chair.

//

Miraculously, the workweek dragged on from the moment you took on her duties, nearly driving you insane. Life had to be punishing you for whatever you may have done in a past life, you suppose.

On behalf of Irene, you held and conducted meetings with the other chief officers, managed to fix a payroll situation, emailed clients; there was no end to the tasks you did. Working out of her office, you wonder how she survived before you. When you weren’t on the phone, you were either emailing someone or speaking to them in person. You even set up modeling gigs for her in the upcoming months. To your surprise, a lot of employees in the building came up to visit and wish you luck, Joy, and Wendy even bringing you a cake. It was bittersweet, really, but by the time Friday evening rolled around, you were burnt out between the work and not sleeping. 

You yawned before glancing at the time on the bottom of Irene’s laptop. You should’ve left hours ago, but the schedule for an upcoming training event hasn’t been decided yet. With nothing else to do as you waited for an answer back, you set an alarm on your phone and crossed your arms on her desk, laying your head down.

“Just for a little bit,” you say out loud to make yourself feel better before dozing off.

You wake up to your phone going off, except it’s not the usual alarm tone that’s set.

“Fuck.”

You pick your head up to an unknown number flashing across your phone. A glance at the clock made you reluctant to answer, but on the last ring, you do.

“Hello, I’m really sorry for calling at this hour. Is this Y/N L/N?”

The unknown voice makes you sit up, still groggy.

“Yeah- Yes, sorry. Who is this?”

“I’m really really sorry to bother you, again, but I have uh... Bae Joohyun... _the_ Bae Joohyun here at our restaurant, and she’s had a little too much to drink and we don’t want her to walk around by herself. The people from her party left already after the meal but she’s been extremely insistent that you come here and gave us your number…”

This woman runs on, rushing to fit every detail that you weren’t really concerned about into a single breath. You left her on speaker as you fumbled around the room for Irene’s car keys. 

It was a very confusing purchase; Irene doesn’t drive, nor has she expressed an interest in learning the skill anytime soon. Despite that, she was persistent with you on buying it. 

_“For emergencies.” Irene had crossed her arms._

_“You’re telling me in an emergency you’ll magically know how to drive?” You stared at her in confusion when you realized she won’t back down. You waved your hand before exiting her office._

_“Fine, don’t let me stop you from living your life.”_

You won’t admit she’s right, because it’s been used a lot more than you thought it’d be, but you’re still the only one who drives it.

You spot the keys on one of her shelves, grabbing them before picking the phone back up to your ear.

“Just give me your address.”

The drive to the restaurant wasn’t long at all when it was so late. You pulled up to the entrance, ignoring the no parking sign as you briskly walked in. Irene was leaning over the podium, talking to the woman you presumably spoke to on the phone. She looked beautiful as ever, donning a low-cut burgundy dress, her toned leg peeking from the slit above her thigh. Her long hair was tucked behind her ears, showcasing the luxurious jewelry hanging off her ears and neck. If you’re being honest, she’s dressed like she had a date rather than a business dinner. Behind them, you can see the restaurant’s nearly empty, save for a couple at one table and waiters starting to sweep the floors. She points to you to get Irene’s attention. When her eyes meet yours, the same butterflies that used to fill your chest fluttered once more.

“Y/N!” She beams. “I knew you would come.”

She struts towards you, looping her arms around your neck and smelling distinctly of wine. You give a small smile before thanking the woman, leading Irene out with an arm around her waist.

“I’m just doing my job. Why did you need me to come get you though?”

Irene frowns, poking your cheek.

“Because... because you’re my secretaryyyyyyyy. You look tired, Y/N.”

You sigh as you unlock the car, opening the passenger side door. The fact that she’s addressed you by your first name more this week than she has the rest of the year doesn’t go unnoticed, making you flustered.

“I mean like, why didn’t you take a taxi back if you took one earlier?”

Your boss groans, reluctant to let you go. The action would have been endearing weeks ago, but it’s midnight and you’re half asleep dealing with your drunk, soon to be ex-boss on your last day.

“Come on, please.” She obeys, letting you close the door before getting into the driver's side. Only now does she realize it’s her own car.

“You’re still at the office?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing major though. You can easily take care of it Monday.”

You help her with her seat belt before she speaks up.

“My phone died, I’m sorry.”

You start the car and flick the lights back on.

“I’m not complaining, but the restaurant could’ve called you one.”

Irene groans, flipping her arm around.

“What’s so _wrong_ with wanting my secretary to get me? I trust you more than a taxi driver at… what time is it?”

“12.”

“12,” Irene repeats. She looks out the window when you start driving, street lamps reflecting off the glass. It was a nice night for a ride, you thought, trying to look past that you were out without choice. Well really, there was a choice, and you made your decision. For Irene, you’d pick her up anywhere if it means knowing she’d be safe with you, and this conclusion hits you hard.

You don’t want to leave her. Any time with Irene is better than nothing.

For a while, the engine is the only sound you hear as your foot steadies on the accelerator. You blink slowly, zoning out on the empty road when Irene’s voice pulls you back.

“I missed you, Y/N. That’s why I told the restaurant to call you.”

You sneak a glance at Irene, who’s still looking out in her own world. “Missed me?”

More silence, and you almost glance at her again to see if she fell asleep.

“I’ve been so harsh towards you lately. I may be book smart but I don’t...do so well with people. I come off as mean already because of my looks but you were one of the few that I did do well with and I pushed you far away.”

You don’t say anything, braking at the red light. Neither of you have spoken in depth about what went down between you two lately, and it was the last conversation you thought you’d be having on your official last night as her employee.

You attempt to approach it with a lighter mood.

“You know, if the sex was that bad, you could’ve just said so.”

Irene flops her arm around to smack yours holding the wheel.

“No, no. No. That’s not it, Y/N. That was some of the best sex I’ve ever had. And that scared me.”

Chuckling, you turn into the parking lot under Irene’s building.

“Sex so good it scared you? Sounds like a load of bullshit.”

Irene turns in the seat to look at you as you pull into a spot.

“For someone so smart too, youuuuuu don’t _get_ it.”

“Irene, you’re dru-” Irene shushes you with a finger pressed onto your lips. She’s a very typical drunk, the scene almost comical as she waves her free hand around carelessly.

“Y/N I like you, and as your boss, I shouldn’t. I tried to keep you at arm's length, addressing you formally and... yeah. I was afraid to reci... reciprocate the warm actions you showed me. We had sex in my office and I enjoyed it, a lot. I craved more but I’m supposed to be, you know, _professional_ with you. So I pushed you-” she pauses to make a shoving motion in the air “-away.”

Staring incredulously at your boss, you cut the engine, speaking against her fingers.

“Why couldn’t you just tell me? I would have gone back to strictly business and try to forget the whole thing.”

Irene sighs, rolling her eyes.

“You really don’t get it. I can’t believe I hired you.”

Then she grabs your cheeks, bringing your lips to hers. It’s a soft, sweet kiss, and when Irene pulls away you bring her right back, resting your hand on her neck. To think that she didn’t like you, and now, here you were. You can taste the wine on her lips, feeling dizzy already. Her hot breath against yours only amplifies it.

“I don’t want to be strictly business with you. Is that okay?”

You smile before giving her answer in another kiss, this one a lot longer. You swipe your tongue across her bottom lip, silently asking for more. Irene inhales sharply but is all too happy allowing you, moving clumsily over the center console to sit in your lap. Her tongue plays with yours before she pulls you away. Irene swipes her thumb across your cheek upon seeing your frown.

“I know it's ultimately your decision whether you still want to leave or not, but is there anything I can do to convince you to stay?”

She pouts, eyes searching you desperately.

“I’ll give you a raise, a new office, I don’t care. What would you want?”

You feign mulling over her proposition, head tilted before kissing her once more, feeling her melt into you. This beats any of your dreams, for sure.

“Just you.”


End file.
